


sweeter than heaven (hotter than hell)

by orayofsunshine



Series: When You're With Me, No Judgement [2]
Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gilbert "heart eyes" Blythe, Masturbation, Non-Graphic Smut, Pining, poor Gilbert someone put him out of his misery, smut if you squint, thirsty Gilbert, this one shot brought to you by wine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:00:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24070018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orayofsunshine/pseuds/orayofsunshine
Summary: When they first agreed to live together, he was certain it would be alright. Sure, he had carried a torch for her since middle school but they were both done with undergrad and he was two years into medical school. He had dated other people and had hookups he regretted, and he was sure that the school yard crush was long behind him.Within two days of living with her he knew he was absolutely screwed.
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe & Anne Shirley, Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley
Series: When You're With Me, No Judgement [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1736503
Comments: 19
Kudos: 300





	sweeter than heaven (hotter than hell)

**Author's Note:**

> Here's 3000 words of thirst. 
> 
> I wasn't sure if I would ever actually end up writing this part of the story, but I'm a fan of giving the people what they want...I would call people out, but you know who you are, ya rascals. 
> 
> Title from Florence and the Machine's "Drumming Song" 
> 
> This is (for now) the last thing I'm going to add to this series, so thanks for reading and being along for the ride!

Living with Anne was heaven and hell. 

Mostly hell. 

But still, there were some moments that made his suffering worth it. Actually, a lot of his moments in heaven also ended in hell. 

So yeah. Mostly hell. 

When they first agreed to live together, he was certain it would be alright. Sure, he had carried a torch for her since middle school but they were both done with undergrad and he was two years into medical school. He had dated other people and had hookups he regretted, and he was sure that the school yard crush was long behind him. 

Within two days of living with her he knew he was absolutely fucked. 

He didn’t know what it would be like, being around her all the time. Seeing her in her element, like sitting behind her sewing machine, lower lip caught between her teeth as she sewed curtains for the living room, or standing in front of the stove cooking, swaying her hips as she hummed a song under her breath, or in the bathroom right before she went to bed, lazily leaning against the bathroom sink while she brushed her teeth, eyes drooping from exhaustion. He got to see every facet of her, and with that the love he had once held for her came rushing back to him in an instant. She, as always, was utterly oblivious that he was stuck in her orbit, a slave to her and her alone. 

Yeah. Hell. 

But, his torment was made all the better by the glimpses of heaven he received. 

Like he was in heaven the morning he was sitting at the kitchen table, coffee in hand as he quietly read the paper, letting the morning light stream in through the gauzy white curtains that Anne had made him hang when they moved in. Then Anne came strolling in, hair falling out of the bun she slept in and not even bothering to cover her mouth as she yawned loudly. He watched as she opened the fridge, still bleary eyed as she bent over to search for the greek yogurt she loved. 

He nearly dropped his coffee cup when the sweatshirt she was wearing rode up, revealing her long, pale legs and her round bottom that he literally _lived_ to touch in their weird game of slap ass that they played while doing chores (heaven was the feel of her body under his hand, and hell was the little squeal she made when he caught her off guard, coupled with her flushed cheeks and wide eyes as she called him names for being so bold). But for all the quick taps they gave each other, he had never seen it so bare, covered in yellow daisy underwear and trimmed with white lace. He found himself staring, fantasizing about what he would do if she was his. He would get up from his spot at the table and make his way over to her, wrapping his hands around her hips before drawing her back against him, grinding his-

Stop, Gilbert. Be smart. 

He took a deep breath, thankful for the barrier of the table between them to hide the effect she had on his body as he cleared his throat to get her attention. 

“Anne, you do know you’re not wearing pants, right?” He said, turning back to the paper, trying to act casual and pretend like he hadn’t been staring. She seemed utterly indifferent to the whole thing, and when she left the kitchen he shook his head at her, (not for the first time) asking himself what he had gotten himself into. 

He realized his nonchalance would cost him dearly as Anne’s comfort level grew, and by the time the week was out they were both lounging on the couch with only the bare minimum of clothing. Gilbert had become a big fan of the throw pillows Anne had bought, because they were his salvation as he put them over his lap, claiming that it was more comfortable for him to rest his arms on the pillow rather than just his lap when he was playing video games. His roommate took the lie at face value, and he was grateful because he didn’t want to explain to her that seeing her lounging on the couch in her underwear and a tank top (and very obviously sans bra), legs askew and more often than not, open, turned him on in ways he hadn’t even known he could be. 

Part of him hated himself, and he prayed for the day that the lease was over so he could beg out of the situation. He felt like a creep, being so crazy about her and still getting to see her in the most intimate of situations. Sometimes, he got close to telling her how he felt. It didn’t seem fair to her to know that he was practically drooling over her all of the time. Maybe if she knew she could turn him down he could actually get the closure he needed to get over her. But then right when he thought he had finally worked up the courage to tell her the truth, he lost his nerve. So his torment continued. 

(Heaven was the sound of her panting and moaning quietly through her door as he walked by on the way to his own room, hell was finding the little pink vibrator on the bathroom counter, drying after being cleaned. It only put ideas in his head that would never be reality, of it being him that was drawing the noises he heard through the door from her lips, rather than the little pink toy that sat mocking him on the counter, knowing that it had touched her more intimately than he ever would.) 

The first time she crawled into his bed, tears rolling down her cheeks after a particularly long day at school and in desperate need of comfort, he nearly lost his head. She spent a good deal of time that night curled up next to him, face buried into his bare chest as she vented about difficult co-workers and uncooperative parents, and he had listened patiently, rubbing her back gently through the fabric of the tank top she wore, wishing more than anything he could kiss her forehead and make all the pain go away. She fell asleep like that, half sprawled on top of him, and he didn’t have the heart to make her move. While he knew he wanted her in a very physical sense most of the time, it was moments like those that made him sure that he also wanted her in every other sense. He loved every part of Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, and as much as he wanted to pin her to any flat surface and have his way with her, he also longed to protect her and keep her safe and to wipe away her tears when the world was unkind. 

He slept like hell that night, not wanting to turn her away but also not able to rest knowing that she was so close to him. He nearly wept with relief when she rolled away from him in her sleep, sliding off of his chest where she had fallen asleep. But, the change in position opened up a whole slew of other potential problems. What if he somehow got close to her in his sleep, pressing his body against hers? He knew that his body would betray him and she would be able to feel him pressed up against her, and he wouldn’t be able to stand himself if he somehow accosted her in the night. In the end, he just slept on his stomach and fell asleep praying that he wouldn’t embarrass himself. 

Then there was Naked Tuesday.

Fucking Naked Tuesday. 

How could he have damned himself in such a way? The initial joke was never supposed to turn into the beast that it did, and even when they started taking the fake pictures to send to their friends, he never could have guessed that it would go to the lengths that it did. Then to make matters even worse he, being the idiot he was, was the one who suggested that they take the ruse further. He and Anne laid in his bed-not close enough to be touching, but close enough that if one of them moved inward at all then they would be- and schemed on how to push the envelope even further. 

“They just don’t think we’re actually naked.” Anne said with a huff, a curious look spreading over her features as she looked at him tentatively. “Gilbert, you’ve seen a naked girl before, right?” 

Gilbert balanced, thankful that he had turned the lights off so that she wouldn’t be able to see his blush in the low light. “What?” 

“A naked woman, the female form. Tits, ass, lady bits. You’re familiar with them?” She asked, raising an eyebrow at her.   
“...Yes?” He said tentatively, wondering where the hell she might be going with her train of thought. She nodded. 

“Perfect, then it won’t be a big deal if you see mine for the sake of the joke. Seen one, seen ‘em all, right?” She said resolutely. Gilbert, on the other hand, was pretty sure his brain was short circuiting. 

“What? No! I can’t see your boobs-” He said, only to have her huff, rolling over to flick on his lamp, illuminating the room before she sat up, pulling her sleep shirt up to her chin. 

“Jesus Christ, Anne!” He exclaimed, eyes going comically wide as he reached for her shirt, tugging it back down over her chest. She simply laughed at him, turning around and hooking her thumbs into her underwear, giving him the quickest flash of her bare backside before she was turning his lamp off and settling back under the blankets. 

“There, now you’ve seen just about everything, so it's not a big deal.” She said with a giggle, but only for a second before she stopped, rolling back over to turn the lamp on again. “Wait, I showed you mine, so you show me yours.” 

“Seriously, Anne?” He asked, knowing that he must be as red as a radish at her suggestion. He kept his blankets wrapped tightly around him, hiding the erection that had made an appearance the second Anne had lifted her shirt. God, he was never going to be able to close his eyes again without the image of her tits burned into his eyelids. He was a ruined man, that was for sure. 

“Oh, come on! It’s not fair if you don’t show me, too!” She prodded, and he shook his head. 

“Haven’t you seen a naked guy before?” He asked, throwing the question she had asked back at him. Anne rolled her eyes. 

“Gilbert, you’re being ridiculous.” She said flatly. 

“What? ‘Seen one, seen ‘em all,’ isn’t that what you said? I’m not showing you my dick-” 

“I don’t want to see your dick-” Anne argued hotly. 

“Well good!” Gilbert exclaimed. “Because it’s never going to happen! If you ever need to see my ass for a Naked Tuesday picture, then I guess you’ll see it then. Until then you’re just going to have to use your imagination.” 

With that, he turned over, effectively ending the conversation and beginning the torment that would be trying to sleep without having a wet dream about the girl lying next to him. 

(He was thankful that he had a late shift the next day, because the second he heard the front door shut behind her the next morning, his hand was in his pants, desperately stroking himself as he thought of her. He came embarrassingly fast, thinking about what her breasts would feel like in his hands, how it would feel to squeeze the soft flesh in his hands, pinching and squeezing at her nipples as she moaned into his mouth.) 

His torture only grew after their conversation, and he only had himself to blame. Week after week he had to see some part of her bare, and his sanity was wearing more and more thin. Along with becoming more and more acquainted with her curves (dear _god_ he loved her ass), they also spent more time doing other things. He loved spending time with her, he always knew that, but there was something extra special about doing the most mundane things by her side. He loved going grocery shopping with her and folding laundry while watching jeopardy and cooking dinner together whenever they had the chance, bumping hips playfully as they talked about their days. He loved getting to visit her at school, bringing her lunch on days that he had night shifts or helping her rearrange her classroom whenever it struck her fancy. 

He loved every part of Anne, and when their landlord offered them a two year lease he didn’t even have to think before signing, knowing that he would stay with her as long as she let him. And it seemed like she didn’t turn down his affection, the cuddling they did on the couch or his bed was always just as much her as it was him, and he didn’t try and question what her motives were. Maybe he should have, it probably would have been smarter, but he was too far gone to give a damn. He would give into her over and over again until she was his or she broke his heart, whichever came first. 

The first time he kissed her was honestly an accident. He had finished up eating breakfast and was on the verge of being late for his shift. Anne was standing at the sink washing her breakfast dishes, her hair looking as if it were on fire from the early morning sun streaming through the window. He felt like he had been punched in the chest by just how beautiful she was, so when he went to set his dishes in the sink he acted without truly thinking, resting a hand on her the curve of her hip as he pressed a kiss to her hair, squeezing her side lightly. 

“See you tonight.” He said, his heart thundered as he realized what he had done a nanosecond after he had done it, and he practically sprinted out of the house to avoid the fallout of his actions. He was a nervous mess the whole day at work, barely able to put thoughts of her aside to focus on his patients, and after a tortuous day he got home from work to find her in the craft room, sewing machine whirring away and paying him no mind at all. He set about making them dinner, trying to act normal, as if the kiss he had given her that morning was the most normal thing in the world. When they sat down for dinner he was waiting for her to berate him for what he had done that morning, but it never came. Instead she gave him a warm smile, thanked him for cooking, kissed his cheek and sat down in her chair asking him about how his day had gone. 

And so with her positive response in mind, he kept kissing her. Every time he left for work he would find her, kiss her on the cheek and tell her he’d see her later, walking out of the house with little fanfare but a pep in his step. It almost seemed too good to be true, that they were practically a couple without the labels. If he was being honest, he wasn’t sure how he felt about the predicament. On one hand, he loved the affection that he got to shower her with, and the reciprocation from her that he seemed to be getting more and more. She had all but taken up residence in his room, curling close to him as she fell asleep every night. He had long since stopped caring about if she would feel his body, and instead he wondered what she would think if she did feel him, the hard lines of his body flush against the soft curves of hers. 

And the funny thing was that she started kissing him back. It didn’t matter what he was doing, it seemed like she loved to kiss him on the cheek, or the shoulder, or the crown of his head, and one time over his heart and he swore that it nearly leapt out of his chest when she did. Was she aware of what she did to him? How he longed to call her his, in every sense? 

Finally, one warm summer night, he got tired of speculating and decided to act. He wasn’t sure what possessed him to do it, but it was almost as if he couldn’t help himself as he grabbed her chin, pulling her into him as he slotted his lips against hers. He kissed her slowly, heart practically soaring out of his chest when she kissed him back, sighing into his mouth as she scooted closer to him, winding her arms around his neck to draw him in closer. 

He wished he had more self control than he did that night, but after a year of being so careful to not scare her off with his affection and desire, he couldn’t hold back anymore. They couldn’t have been kissing for long when his hands slid under her sleep shirt, tugging it over her head. He groaned into the kiss, nipping at her lower lip as he took one of her breasts into his hand, finding that it fit perfectly in his grasp. He cursed under his breath, leaning upward to take her nipple in his mouth as his other hand reached blindly towards the bedside table, flipping on the lamp and bathing the room in light. Anne winced at the bright light, giving him a curious look. She was sitting on top of him, over his thighs but close enough that if she leaned forward even a little she could rock his world. He looked up at her, marvelling at her body and that _he_ had gotten permission to touch it after months of only being allowed to look. 

Anne’s cheeks were flushed, the blush spreading down to her throat and chest, and her lips were red and parted slightly as she looked down at him.

“Why did you turn the light on?” She asked and he smirked up at her, eyes roving over her body slowly, mind swimming with years worth of fantasies that would hopefully be coming true. 

“Because,” he said, finally finding her eyes again, a smirk on his face. “I want to see everything that’s about to happen.” 

She gasped at his statement and didn’t wait for him to say anything else before she was leaning down to capture his lips in her. The action was just enough to scoot her hips forward, pressing their lower halves together, tearing a ragged moan from Gilbert’s lips as he grabbed her ass, grinding himself up against her. 

He had heard her moans of pleasure before, always muffled behind her bedroom door or the sound of the shower running, and they were nothing compared to the sounds that she was making in his ear, her fingers tangled in his hair as she rocked her hips against him. He wasn’t sure who took off whose underwear, but all that mattered was that once the layers were off he didn’t hesitate to pull away slightly from their kiss, looking up at Anne. She looked like a goddess towering above him, chest heaving, a small disbelieving smile on her face. 

“Yeah?” He asked, breathless himself as he flexed his fingers, digging into the supple skin of her hips. Anne giggled, biting her lip as she nodded, a playful look in her eye. 

“Yeah.” 

And with that she leaned down to kiss him once more, biting down on his lip as she sunk down on him, and he knew he had found Heaven there with her. 

  
  



End file.
